


What If We Are Stuck Together in Quarantine? haha... uh-oh?

by griddle



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Apologies, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Romance, Awkward Tension, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, Post-Canon, Post-Time Skip, Pro Volleyball Player Hinata Shouyou, Pro Volleyball Player Kageyama Tobio, Rivals to Friends to Lovers, Romantic Comedy, Self-Doubt, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Volleyball, Volleyball Dorks in Love, as they are in canon, im sorry about that, there is so much going on between kagehina, this has been delayed FOR SO LONG
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:47:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23751814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/griddle/pseuds/griddle
Summary: Somehow, Hinata Shoyou and Kageyama Tobio find themselves stuck together while waiting for the weekend self-observance quarantine is over. Not to mention, they have nothing else to do since all national events, including V League competitions, are canceled. It'll probably turn into an outlasting competition, but not before the intimacy of their situation reveals the depth of their dependence and importance to each other.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio, Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi, Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi
Comments: 8
Kudos: 293





	1. 2 bros stuck together in quarantine because they're not gay

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't get out of my head the "what if" of the Haikyuuverse living in time of the COVID-19 pandemic, thus the birth of my first ever fanfic contribution to the Haikyuu fandom. I know the pandemic has been causing us unimaginable problems and stress, so I hope this fic can take your mind out of the panic for awhile :))
> 
> Moreover, this fanfic will serve as a donation drive for foundations helping sustain supplies for the fight against COVID-19, especially in Asia. If you have money to spare, you can donate in the following organizations!
> 
> https://www.who.int/emergencies/diseases/novel-coronavirus-2019/donate  
> https://www.projecthope.org  
> https://www.actionagainsthunger.org/donate/COVID19-relief-fund  
> https://give2asia.org/coronavirus-pandemic-response-asia/

> _Japan Today, live on April 10, 2020: Prime Minister Shinzo Abe declares suspension of all public events for a week that may gather a crowd. This includes coronation rituals, shrine festivals, upcoming V League competition and the 2020 Olympics. This is to flatten the rate of COVID-19 positives, says Abe. However, he denies Japan needs a nationwide lockdown. Instead, citizens are advised to stay at home and avoid physical contact starting tomorrow until Monday, April 13, 2020. Stay tuned for more advisory regarding the events and news on COVID-19._

* * *

Hinata turns from where he's splayed on a sofa, jolts upright at the news. He scuffles closer to listen better. _Canceling the games?_ He turns the thought over and over in his mind, rejecting that it's real. _Impossible_ , he tells himself. _This can't be true_.

Kageyama emerges from a kitchen with a sweaty soda can in each hand. Hinata does a little wave, to which Kageyama throws a soda can into. "Nice receive!" Hinata jokes. Kageyama has settled on the sofa space Hinata scooted over for him. Hinata though, pauses before opening the can, eyeing the drink. Then he eyes Kageyama coolly sipping from his own.

"What?" Kageyama starts, noticing Hinata. The other just points at the drink.

"You didn't shake this, didn't you?"

Kageyama scoffs, turns his whole torso to face Hinata. "I'm not that evil!"

"Yes, you are." Much to Hinata's false retort, the soda was untouched. The news channel is still reporting on the pandemic, highlighting schedules for wet markets and groceries, replanning of canceled events, and the fall of Japan's economy.

"Hey." Hinata nudges Kageyama's side, juts a thumb towards the television. "Forgot to ask if you saw awhile ago?" 

"Yeah," Kageyama sighs. His eyebrows were creased into a frown. "They cancelled the volleyball events."

"I know, right? It's so serious even volleyball cannot be played!"

The distance between Hinata's place in Osaka and Kageyama's home in Oita is around 4 hours via travel in bullet train, from the Yodobayashi station. It's their decision, of course, to stay close to the gyms and founding centres of their respective teams. So, visits like these during season breaks are a rare ocassion. They, too, train during breaks, and only a small window is allowed for the players to loosen their strict regimes. Hinata enjoys the training periods, but he also enjoys catching up with Kageyama. After all, they were a constant presence in each other's lives, the most during their time in Karasuno.

Hinata looks at Kageyama's wall clock above the television, realizes it's about time for him to go before the rush hour ensues. 

"I'm leaving!" he calls out to Kageyama, fitting his shoes by the main entrance. He sees Kageyama watch him from the sofa, waves goodbye. 

"Hey, dumbass," Kageyama says. "Don't get caught sick outside, or else you cannot play against me."

Hinata pauses, studies Kageyama's serious expression. Then, he chuckles behind his hand, ensuing an empty can of soda being thrown to his chest.

"Hey! I was just laughing."

"What was that for?" Kageyama demands, frown back to decorate his face.

"I don't know," Hinata admits. "But I know how to take care of myself, duh."

"I know you don't want to be sat out from court again because of a fever." Hinata knows what Kageyama's referring to— their last match during their first time at the Tokyo Nationals as Karasuno players. Even though Kageyama said he's the last man standing on the court between them, the match didn't last long after Hinata left. It was Hinata's first time at loss on how to help.

"I know," Hinata answers, heads out the door. "It's just odd of you to care, Angryama."

"Don't call me Angryama!"

"Stop calling me dumbass!"

* * *

Kageyama's left in his home to clean after the mess Hinata made from eating in his living room. There are empty plates and food packaging on the coffee table, the pillows of his sofa messed up, and the leftover soda cans are also in disarray. Even though he's used to Hinata being this messy, he's not used to the mystery on how Hinata always manages to not let any crumb or condensation spots to mess the area. He'll have to look into that. But atleast it's a short clean-up, and Kageyama can go back quick to watching the news.

Hinata tells him to stop calling the other dumbass. He wouldn't. It's a nickname, but a fond nickname nevertheless. He did tell this to Hinata, though, and the orange-haired spiker is mortified. "Calling me stupid is fond?" Kageyama's about to break into a long explanation when Hinata just mockingly laughed at him. "Loser! If you're gonna keep calling me dumbass, then I might keep up with my better ones, Scaryama." Kageyama then argued that Hinata's are no better, which spurred into an ugly nickname-making contest. 

But, Kageyama's glad. 

There's a two-year period wherein they've stopped being constants in each other's lives. Yet, they're grew up with each other, a steady presence despite distance. And it's funny how, on their first match, they recognized each other from the get-go. Although, their first meeting taking place in a bathroom while Hinata sings his stupid poop song _is_ kinda awkward. Kageyama shrugs to himself. _Sticking to the trademark, huh_ , he thought.

Besides, the training they undertook for the past two years are for each other, in hopes they'll meet again as rivals on the court. Kageyama's lying to himself if he says Hinata training at the other side of the world didn't serve as his motivation.

Sometimes, Hinata turns out to be more than just "motivation". Kageyama's not sure, but he's not oblivious to his feelings. And it was very obvious that something was different in him— when Kageyama keeps on expecting for Hinata to show up or call his name, on or off court, so he keeps calling out Hinata's name. Maybe it's a force of habit, maybe he got used to Hinata, but the silence left in Hinata's place was rather bothersome. Sure, he never made it a big deal, but it was better if he had someone around he _knows_ , more than he knows himself.

So the time they spend together— just the two of them, with the Karasuno team, with the former Karasuno first-years, _anyone_ who helped Kageyama reach his full potential with a team— is important to him. Hinata's important to him, that's something he's sure about.

But, as of now, he'll ditch Hinata's importance because said guy is now ringing his phone crazy. Kageyama groans. It's just been half an hour since Hinata left. He's sure that Hinata can go home around this time— it's enough window before the rush hour, and Hinata's always had his money with him. 

Kageyama sits up straight. _Wait a minute._

"Hey, stupid Hinata," he answers. "Don't tell me you lost your wallet. Or did you lose your way? This isn't your first time here."

"Slow down!" Hinata complains. Kageyama noticed Hinata sounds riled up and dumbfounded, like he couldn't place where to direct his frustration. In the background, Kageyama can hear a clamor of complaints clashing with whistles and shouts. _What's going on?_

"First of all, I didn't lose my wallet. Second, I am at the station, so I'm not lost. Third, I am calling _because_ I am at the station—"

"—huh—?"

"—and fourth, I am still at the station because all travels outside Oita are prohibited, whether you're a resident or not. Meaning, I am stuck here with you."

"You mean the quarantine is already taking place?"

"I guess so? Though they said it's a pre-caution."

Kageyama mulls it over, grumbles. "Gross being stuck with you," he concludes. There's a rather indignant shout from the other end, followed by a garble of curses.

"Wow, Kageyama! I should be the one grossed out because _I am_ stuck with you," Hinata answers, putting emphasis on each word.

"Well, whatever. What can we do. You heading back now?"

"—Now, that's the problem," Hinata mumbles.

"That's the _what?_ "

"I said that's a problem. I don't have enough money left."

  
  



	2. I'm Sorry I Was Insulting You, I Was Trying To Flirt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They are very much aware of their own feelings, but are they aware of each other's?

> _ "Breaking News in Japan Today: V League Association finalizes due payment for their athletes. The president says that this is their payment for the delayed season, as well as a provided commission pay to sustain their basic needs during off-season. The association apologizes for any trouble caused. Although volleyball's off-season may be extended unknowingly, V League assures that their comeback season will be better than the past. Stay tuned for more news updates on COVID-19." _

* * *

"How long will it take before Kageyama arrives?"

A crowd shouldn't worry Hinata. In fact, he should be used to them. All his life, there was always a crowd involved. All the games he played, there was a crowd watching his every move.

But the familiarity of nerve is trickling inside him, messing with his head. It was strangely similar to pre-game anxiety, but also, a width different. So many people, but not a familiar face. Hinata's realized he's only ever comfortable in crowds because he has someone to be with.

He's not the only one in the crowd growing anxious. There are so many people confused, others demand to go home because of their family, their pets, while others are visibly shaking.

Of course, Hinata loves befriending people, but that doesn't mean he loves being stuck in a place full of strangers. It gives a different type of claustrophobic feels, as if he cannot see ahead from this moment.

Someone nudged into his side. Another's shoulder smacked the side of his forehead. The station's bursting, the staff can barely control them. Hinata wants to jump to see if he can spot Kageyama, but the squeeze of bodies proves impossible.

_ "Hinata." _

He feels it before he hears it— a hand wrapping around his, pulling him away from the rush. The heat, sweat, and frustration's becoming distant. For the first time in Hinata's life, he's glad to see Kageyama's sharp glare.

"Whoa!" They're still walking away from the station, down stairs leading outside. The cool evening air washes away the smell of the bodies pressed against Hinata.

"How did you find me, Kageyama?"

Kageyama just blanches, shrugs. 

"How can't  _ anyone _ find you, idiot? You're brighter than train headlights."

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that."

It's quieter now. In the cab which Kageyama hailed from a service app, reggae floats from the driver's radio and lulls the two to settle. The street they got off, away from the bustle of the train station, was a silent lullaby. The only sounds they can hear is the wind softly blowing between the rustle of leaves, a random car farther up, a stray cat scouring garbage farther down. Kageyama pulled themselves into a convenience store and bought some snacks. Hinata's munching on a bun when they turned left to the alley leading to Kageyama's apartment.

"You know," Hinata says. "You can let go of my hand."

"Huh?"

Hinata shakes his hand, the part where Kageyama's palm is still wrapped around his. Hinata glances at a thumb absently circling his. "Oh? What's this?"

Hinata's hand was shook off faster than he can make an actual joke about the situation. That's when it hits: The walk to the nearest street to find a cab, the ride itself, and in the convenience store— was Hinata's hand held all these times? And why didn't he notice? More importantly, why did he only point out now?

Hinata's hand had gone cold, not even the hot bun he's eating can warm it. But, ah well. What's Tobio's deal? He looks at the guy walking ahead, cannot make out if Kageyama's having a rash attack or turning red from exhaustion. Or was it—?

"Shut up—" Kageyama quips, avoiding Hinata.

"What's that, Kageyama-kun? Were you scared I'd get lost?"

"I wasn't" Kageyama scoffs beneath his hand.

"That was obviously you being affectionate—"

"Yeah," the other answers. "So what if I am?"

Hinata halted, stopping mid-chew and almost dropping his bun. Kageyama follows him with a look of concern, legs already poised as if to move towards him.

"Hinata?"

"Where's the Kageyama I know?"  _ This is unfair. This is wholly unfair! _ "You're being too honest! Did an alien invade your body, huh? Did you overdo volleyball training?" Hinata jumps up to clamber onto Kageyama, tussles his hair. "Was your brain replaced with a volleyball?"

"Shoyou,  _ shut up! _ " Hinata's mouth was soon covered by a hand that smells like sports ball rubber, soap, and clean cotton shirts. "You're waking up the whole neighborhood."

_ I promise, I'm calm now. _ Hinata bets his apology is muffled by Kageyama's hand continuously squeezing his face, but the other has let him off the hook, and continues to walk as if some passerby didn't turn to look at them in alarm.

"I'm never letting this go past you, y'know." 

"I'm not the only one, though."

Hinata faces the taller man. 

_ Unfair _ . Hinata thinks that again and again and again, a word tumbling in his head.  _ I'm the one here trying to confirm my feelings, so why do you look like you're the one in love? _

"Your face when I found you in the station," Kageyama begins. "You should have seen it, because you're doing it now."

Now Hinata swats at his face, swats at Kageyama's face. "What do you mean?" Hinata demands, tags after the other speedwalking.

"It's ugly!" Kageyama shouts. Hinata, basing on the reaction, feels like it really isn't.

There's so many questions in his mind now, but he'll know the answer soon enough.

* * *

"Where the fuck is Hinata?"

Losing Hinata in a crowd is quite easy: he's of average height, distracted, often friendly even to creepy strangers, and likes to chase after stray animals. Back in their highschool days, they even  _ raced _ each other with eyes closed. Lucky neither of them got caught in accidents. Kageyama thinks that if he can keep up with Hinata even with his eyes closed, then it's better with eyes open. But, in a crowd as packed as this, not even Kageyama, wifh his height, can spot even a speck of his bright, orange hair.

There's a tumble in his guts he isn't quite sure what to call, but he's also becoming frustrated. The crowd's becoming restless. He just wants to pick up a friend and move on.

Something in the corner of Kageyama's eyes flashed tangerine— was it Hinata? He'd be damned if itvs another cone head. 

The tangle has unbundled, the tension in his shoulders let loose. Wide, brown eyes, round face, and a smack of unkempt, outrageous orange hair—  _ This is Hinata _ .

Kageyama calls out Hinata's name, entwines his hand around the other, looks back if the other not getting thrown off by the crowd. When Kageyama looked back though, he was sure his last surviving brain cell finally perished.

Hinata looks  _ awestruck _ , looks like he doesn't expect for Kageyama to show up and actually find him in this place full of people wanting to be found. But this was not the same  _ awestruck _ look Kageyama got from him before because his tosses were superb. It was a look of relief, comfort, a wash of serenity that makes Kageyama feel that he's Hinata's safe zone.

Kageyama then noticed that Hinata's just as stressed as he was, started rolling his thumb against his palm, watched Hinata's clenched jaw soften, saw how Hinata practically melted into the touch. And was Hinata  _ blushing? _

And for the whole time, Hinata's silent. He could hear Hinata's breath steady, in time of the music played from cab driver's radio. Their steps are no longer as urgent as before, falling into a comfortable pattern wherein they're side by side. When Kageyama bought Hinata food, the other didn't even complain that it's not enough. He just meekly accepted and ate it.

_ Is he okay? _

Hinata clear his throat. "You know, you can let go of my hand."

"Huh?"

Quickly, Kageyama's eyes darted to where his right hand his— _ with Hinata's hand _ . Kageyama pulls it off, fastens his pace.

He can hear Hinata literally skipping his way to catch up to Kageyama. His words are laced with mirth, and Kageyama's annoyed. "Oh, what's this?"

"Shut up—"  _ pretend nothing happened pretend nothing happened pretend nothing happened _

"What's that, Kageyama-kun?" Kageyama swears Hinata sang his name. "Were you scared I'd get lost?"

"I wasn't," Kageyama gruffly coughs, hides his face behind the hand previously holding Hinata's.

"That was obviously you being affectionate—"

"Yeah?" Kageyama stands straight, levels his face to Hinata's. "So what if I am?"

_ I am not entirely sure what I'm saying right now, but I'm sick and tired of dancing around the topic. _

But Hinata didn't answer, his expression unreadable— eyes hooded and lips set straight. Then, it morphed into disbelief.

"Where's the Kageyama I know?" Hinata whines, running again to catch up to Kageyama speedwalking once more. He jumps up, Kageyama's reflexes getting ahead of him and catching his body. Something in him jumped, his chest warm. Hunata continued his complaints.

"You're being too honest! Did an alien invade your body, huh? Did you overdo volleyball training? Was your brain replaced with a volleyball?"

Kageyama groans, tries to shove off Hinata from messing with his hair.  _ One moment he's cute, then the next he's a literal annoying, loud monkey _ .

" _ Shoyou, shut up! _ You're waking up the whole neighborhood."

When Hinata's calmed down and they returned to their walking, Hinata admits to Kageyama that this moment will be immortalized as a joke. Kageyama shrugs, guessing he can live with it.

"I'm not the only one, though," he says, earns a confused garble from Hinata. "Your face when I found you at the station, you should have seen it, because you're doing it now."

Kageyama has to coin a new word for how red Hinata's turned, from head down to his neck, averted his gaze and walked ahead before he could further embarass himself. He ignores Hinata calling out.

"You're ugly!" Kageyama shouts before covering his ears, before turning completely away so his grin can be shadowed by the night.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YEEHAW!!! Please support the fic,,, arigatou
> 
> rant at my twt: @heyau_s


	3. Oh, to be Quarantined in your Crush's House and said Crush may or may not like you back!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Empty fridges, some squabbling, plus their feelings topped with competitiveness really leak all over the place. This is not beta-read nor proof-read yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I'm so sorry this is late! It's been rough on my part. I don't want to expound, but a relative has been hospitalized and it's been rough. Anyway, we're all good now, and this chapter is up! In behalf of that, please take your time to read about protests around the world, especially the Black Lives Matter movement, Hong Kong protests against extradition to China, and Junk Terror Bill protests in the Philippines (where I live). Read and donate to the following links (as I have!):  
> https://forjusticeforpeace.carrd.co/  
> https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co/  
> https://www.bbc.com/news/world-asia-china-49317695  
> https://protesttips.carrd.co/  
> https://standwithhongkong.carrd.co/  
> https://junkterrorbill.carrd.co/  
> https://parasapinas.carrd.co/

The rest of the night blends into a blur for the two. Hinata cannot remember if he continued annoying Kageyama for the rest of the night, or if he just crashed on the other’s sofa, tired from the mental stress caused by the packed station. He can’t even be bothered to nag Kageyama who between the two of them can sleep faster. That’s just how tired he is.

Somewhere in his sleep, his dream replays what conspired yesternight─ the red of Kageyama’s ears, traveling all the way down his nape, the circle of his thumb, and warm, cheap food bought from a convenience store. In his dreams, he doesn’t tease Kageyama. He’s intent on his answer, mouthing words he’s meant to say. In his dreams, Kageyama answers, straightforward, sincere.

Except, Hinata does not get to hear the next part of his dream.

Hinata wakes up half-slouched on the floor, and the other part of his body barely supported by the sofa’s cushioning. There’s a throw pillow across the room. Hinata suspects himself kicking it in his sleep. His phone display indicates the time: 7:30 A.M. There is drool dried stuck to the side of his cheek. His hair is messily pressed on one side. What’s with his sleeping position, anyway? Was he sleepwalking without walking? Sleep Motion Walking? Sleep Motioning? Hinata picks himself up, feels his muscles ache from the strain. _This is too much to think about._

Hinata’s guess is Kageyama’s still sound asleep in his bedroom. He glanced to his left, at the bedroom’s closed door. Well, maybe they do both crashed that night. Who knows, who knows?

What’s more disappointing is when Hinata opened Kageyama’s fridge for food, there’s literally _nothing._ Save for a stash of milk cartons from his favorite brand, curry that smells close to expiration, and a slimy smudge at the far corner, it’s empty of anything edible. What the heck is Hinata supposed to eat? How did Kageyama live like this? Hinata stomps over, towards Kageyama’s door, poised to bang it down.

“Oi, Ka─”

“Oi, Hinata. I was up earlier than you by 2 hours, 30 minutes and 25 seconds. Which means, between the two of us, I get up earlier. Which means, on a contest on who wakes up earlier, such as this, I win─”

“That’s not the time for that!” Hinata yells, stunning Kageyama. The former is gesturing mad at the fridge, which was left open. Kageyama panics, dashes to close the door. He turns to Hinata, the shine of glare sharp in his eyes. “Hinata!” his growl rivals the tenacity of Hinata’s scream, but the orange-haired volleyball player isn’t intimidated. He stands ground, right foot rapping the wooden floor.

“Hinata, this is a fridge, not an air-conditioner unit! How the fuck are my drinks supposed to chill like that!?”

“That’s the problem!” Hinata whines. He walks over to where Kageyama now stands, pushes him aside to open the fridge door again, much to Kageyama’s annoyance. “Milk is not breakfast!”

Kageyama pauses, his face scrunching. The slow fold of Kageyama’s frown is quite endearing, but Hinata’s exasperated. “Huh? What do you mean milk is not breakfast?”

“I said what I said!” This time, Kageyama is back to his roaring, stomping, stubborn self. Hinata swears he can see smoke blow out of the other’s nostrils.

“Ha!? Milk is breakfast!” Kageyama answers. He closes the refrigerator’s door, a resounding _boof_ rattling Hinata. “It has calcium, iron and energy! Breakfast food component!”

“Solid food!” Hinata mimes rice being picked between chopsticks. “Where do you eat solid food?”

“Where else are you supposed to eat if you’re an athlete?” Kageyama retorts. “At the gym cafeteria, duh!’ The raven man stabs a finger at Hinata’s forehead, flicking it hard. Hinata winces, an audible _ow_ escaping from his lips. “How about you?” Kageyama asks Hinata, who was rubbing the sore spot between his eyebrows. “Where do _you_ eat?”

Now, Hinata’s avoiding his eyes. All his telltale signs are bursting forth: a stutter in his syllables, fingers knot into each other, a long skip from his thoughts. “O-of course!” Hinata tries. “I cook my own meals!” Kageyama’s feeling pitiful with how far Hinata is willing to fake it for a teeny-tiny lie. He even does some kind of weird superhero pose, where he juts a finger to his pumped-out chest. He’s betting he got this weird habit from either Bokuto, Atsumu, or their legendary Karasuno 2nd Year Idiot Duo- Nishinoya and Tanaka. Kageyama’s not going to lie when he says Hinata’s buff, especially in that area, but he knew this idiot can only cook fast meals bad for an athlete (and which said idiot lovingly consumes).

“Hinata, come on. I know you,” Kageyama concedes. “You can only cook so much food, especially you love deep-fried oily ones. Oily and chemical food, I mean."

“Ha?” Hinata startles, starting another ruckus. “I’m not admitting defeat unless...unless─”

“Unless what, Hinata?” Kageyama continues. He leans against a wall. “I already admitted to drinking milk for breakfast. If you want me to say that’s weird, it does sound so. But, it’s better than your beloved simpleton, instant food. Does your coach know?” Hinata’s a flustered chaos, gasping for words as his hands try to compensate for signals. Kageyama glances at the now closed refrigerator. _Please, just don’t bring up the expired curry,_ he prays.

“Okay, fine!” Hinata already forgot whatever he was going to say, consciously restraining his muddy thoughts swarm over the image of Kageyama _handsomely_ poised at a _very handsome_ angle by the wall, his hands _extra handsome_ folded into each other, gripping _very lean and very handsome_ biceps. All that melted away when Kageyama fist-pumped when he thought Hinata was not looking. But, okay, the gesture was irritating because it meant Hinata’s defeat. Kageyama’s satisfied grin is _most handsome_ , so, maybe he’ll count it as a win?

Both of their stomach growls. They both look at each other in alarm. This is when Hinata _knew_ their argument (contest?) took up a good chunk of their morning, and now it’s long due their sumptuous breakfast.

“Hey,” Kageyama calls. “You never answered me, though.”

“Answered what?” They’re now in Kageyama’s room, Hinata trying to find a shirt good enough to fit his smaller (but bulkier, if not equally so) frame.

“Where you eat breakfast.” Hinata pops out of a velvet black shirt, shakes his head. Kageyama grunts, noting Hinata’s wearing their old Karasuno Volleyball Club shirt.

“Why not tell? What’s the problem?” Hinata’s dead ignoring him now. Kageyama resorted to poking Hinata’s sides to make him answer, which resulted to a delicate shiver run through the other’s body. _That’s... a little adorable? Wait, what?_ It’s already weird Hinata’s moving around Kageyama’s house like he also lives there, why is this adding up to his problems?

“Kageyama,” Hinata gripes, swatting weakly at the hands. “Stop.”

“No.” At a particular spot, at a particular firmness, when Kageyama poked Hinata’s sides, the latter took a sharp intake of his breath, huffing.

“What the hell, Kageyama!” Hinata complains. “It’s that soba place we went to before I left for Brazil! There’s a branch a few blocks from the gym, and I eat there. Can we go now?”

Poking, complaining, and arguing aside, a very fit Hinata in Kageyama’s very fit clothes, with his cheeks sun-kissed pink and tan skin glowing, quaintly nagging for Kageyama to hurry up outside to do some groceries, his mask hanging on one ear─ that’s a _very cute_ sight, if he may say. He won’t say, though, but thanks his luck for having it at least for today.


	4. And They Were Roommates! (ohmygod, They Were Roommates...)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kageyama asks himself: is he content, or does he want more?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, please take your time to read, donate and inform of the Black Lives Matter movements, Hong Kong protests, and Philippine Junk Terror Bill protests:  
> https://forjusticeforpeace.carrd.co/  
> https://parasapinas.carrd.co/  
> https://standwithhongkong.carrd.co/

“You think this is enough?” Hinata asks, surveying the grocery carts. They each have one stocked to the brim. Kageyama has his chin cupped in his hand, deep in thought. “This is only good for one day.”

“ _What do you mean one day!? We are in a pandemic, not an eat-all-you-can opportunity!”_ from Kageyama’s phone, Sugawara was yammering off from the screen. Daichi and Asahi are also seen, and their faces show them unimpressed. There’s also Tsukishima, hands poised ready to leave the conversation, with only Yamaguchi stopping him.

Hinata was also on video call with some of his teammates in MSBY Black Jackals─ Bokuto, who does nothing but encourage Hinata and Kageyama, and the Miya twins, but with only Osamu with his eyes glimmering awestruck. He seems to be in the middle of wrapping rice balls. Atsumu looks close to throwing up.

“Growing athletes needs lotsa foods!” Bokuto answers from his screen. Atsumu retorts. “’Yer g’na eat everyone’s asses off! This like that time ‘Samu brought home ‘oo many onigiri, we had it f’er a week─”

“Tsum-Tsum, ass is not food,” Bokuto deadpans. Osamu was obviously trying to keep his laughter in, a snide, audible _ye served at_ thrown Atsumu’s way. Atsumu veers the subject away from him, smiles with all his teeth showing, at Hinata. “But, hey, why ain’t spend the quarantine ‘ere?” Hinata stares weird at Atsumu, like he made a joke he wasn’t sure he should laugh at. “Huh?”

“That’s not going to happen, I’m sorry.” Kageyama interjected, one of his earphones pulled out and held between fingers. Hinata’s thankful his mask’s hiding half of his face. He sure is feeling hot, and all his blood feels like it’s concentrated at his cheeks.

“Y’know what’s g’na happen?” Atsumu replies. Osamu sighs in the background, _here we go again._ “I’ll get that title back at my ass, half-wit, fake bastard.”

“You mean the title of Best Setter in All-Japan?” Kageyama shrugs, dismisses Atsumu. “Whatever.”

“Guys, I’ll call you later!” Hinata is itching to end the call. Atsumu sounds like he’ll smash a volleyball into Kageyama’s head at their next match. He’ll probably do it _now_ if they weren’t in quarantine.

“Okay, my beloved disciple!” Bokuto waves over, his voice so loud it trifles through Hinata’s speakers. “Goodluck on getting Tobio!”

 _“Bokuto-senpai, Kageyama’s next to me!”_ Hinata didn’t find reason to plug in earphones to call his team, but now he regrets his decision. That was what Hinata last heard before everyone exits call, Hinata staring back at himself through the blackened screen. He peers over Kageyama, absorbed into whatever Sugawara was telling him. He just hopes he wasn’t heard.

Hinata can only see Sugawara’s mouth moving and his hands gesturing. Kageyama notices Hinata looking over, and hands one of the earbuds so Hinata can join.

“Oh?” Sugawara notes. “Hinata is done with his call?”

“Yep,” Hinata nods the same time Kageyama says “seems like it.” Sugawara nods back, continues his talk.

“I’m just saying,” Sugawara advises, “try to limit what you’re buying. I know you’re both buying for the capacity of two, very hungry and very bored volleyball players─” Hinata makes a disgruntled noise, to which Sugawara chuckles, “─but think twice, so that food won’t spoil, and supplies won’t be a waste. Plus, you’ll be helping out others who don’t have much available to them.”

“I don’t think King is the considerate type,” Tsukishima remarks. Daichi sighs from another end, facepalms.

“That’s a lot coming from you,” Kageyama’s eyes flicker to Tsukishima’s side, where Yamaguchi was sitting and listening into the conversation. “Does Yamaguchi think of you considerate, I wonder?”

There’s a soft sound escaping Yamaguchi’s lips when Tsukishima frowns and looks down into his lap, folding into himself. “Low blow motherfucker─” Tsukishima hisses.

“ ** _Stop fighting. Now,”_** Daichi growls, his voice deep with reverb. As if drilled into muscle memory, everyone immediately stilled. Sugawara nonchalantly returns to listing off his advice, and even Asahi piped in to suggest a few dishes. The burly guy also used his “fashion knowledge” to point out what clothes are most advisable to wear to minimize skin contact. Even though the beginning of the call was chaotic, it ended on a positive note, with Sugawara practically wailing for a reunion ‘because I miss my cute kouhais!’, Tsukishima leaving first, Asahi also adding he misses the team a lot, and Daichi ending it on the pretense he’ll calm down his friends.

Grocery-shopping was also relatively peaceful compared to what conspired that morning. It may or may be not the hunger, but the both of them bee-lined to an open _yatai,_ a tent-type food place. The owner was allowed to operate under pretense that the _yatai_ follow protocol, and such, only operate on the given time schedule. Hinata has the owner’s face ingrained in his mind, especially when the owner was watching the two of them gulf down their food, ringing for serving after serving. A working staff _had_ to usher them out because they were finishing their supplies under half an hour.

Kageyama mulls over what Bokuto had said to Hinata. Previously, he was mulling over the fact that Hinata is the type to not plug in earphones when he’s in a call, much less a video call, and leave it on loud speaker. What’s more, Bokuto just made the biggest reveal _over phone_ , casually slipping it in a conversation about _groceries._

Now that they are trying to heed Sugawara’s device, the two are taking a second look at their groceries. Each cart is full to the brim with nothing but food, food and more food. Kageyama, knowing his and Hinata’s appetite, they always ask for seconds, sometimes thirds, and both will grumble at the thought of giving up their food.

“Kageyama, it’s only the weekend. I think we can live with one cart,” Hinata tells him.

That’s when they shuffle through their list and eliminate what they don’t need (Hinata can’t let go of beef jerky, though, and Kageyama allowed him _at least_ one jar of it).

Kageyama does not know how to bring up the subject, at least, on what Bokuto meant about what he said. Something in him is awning, scared of the implications. If Hinata returns his affections, why is he afraid so?

The way home seemed long.

They just arrived in time for lunch. Each of them has a bag in each hand─ one for the perishable items, and for the cleaning items. Hinata, who was carrying the cleaning items, fished for the bottle of alcohol sprayer and spritzed some on each of them. They spent a good chunk of their time properly sanitizing themselves, even spraying and wiping down their shoes and door mat.

Hinata immediately crashes on Kageyama’s couch, rolling around to face up a dismayed Kageyama.

“Kageyama, don’t look at me like that,” Hinata pouts. “What are we having for lunch?”

“You’ll be eating nothing if you continue dirtying my couch like that.”

“You’re mean! Food is best shared with a friend.” There’s the brightest, teasing smile on Hinata’s face, one Kageyama was sure he did to appeal to his side. “You would not want a starving friend on your couch, would you?”

“Stop that, ugly,” Kageyama swats at Hinata’s face. “That ‘Puss in Boots” face doesn’t work on me.” Hinata sighs in defeat, finally leaving the couch to follow Kageyama in the kitchen for the both of them to start cooking.

Hinata’s words just now contradict what Bokuto said a while ago. Maybe that was what his fear about: he’s already comfortable with this relationship. He’s never more than a friend to Hinata, and he’s fine being that. Heck, he can’t even imagine being in a relationship, much less to this dumbass next to him, fixing on an apron. Of course, he and Hinata have scored unbelievable heights, but that was them as friends. If they become more than that, they can no longer have that. Kageyama’s sure he’d rather have what they are now, than a future of volleyball without Hinata, the one who jump-started once again his passion in the sport.


	5. Volleyball Boy, I lovee youuu!!!! *kissy faces*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An egg fight ensues, followed by some yelling, revelations, more yelling, and then Hinata and Kageyama catching up 8 years' worth of now-requited feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! It's the last chapter. Thanks for everyone for hanging out to this point. Always remember that there are also real-world problems and issues exposed during this pandemic. While you may think signing petitions may not help too much, they actually do. I'll link a carrd briefer below. While this fic may serve as a pause, reality happens. If we can help, let us help as much as we do.
> 
> https://issuesintheworld.carrd.co/  
> https://lebanoncrisis.carrd.co
> 
> Follow my twitter @heyau_s

After much arguing in the grocery, disrupting fellow shoppers, almost ruining the wheel of one of the shopping carts they used (long story, involved a bit of a race), Hinata and Kageyama decided on a simple egg-based dish for the day: omurice. It does not take too much to cook that dish, they guessed. Eggs, rice, then the choice filling.

Kageyama re-filled his refrigerator’s contents, keeping in mind he is also housing a certain tangerine head in his home. Temporarily, that is. Not that he is excited about it. God forbid he be excited about this time, especially during a pandemic! _This is not a love break, damn._

That is not Hinata’s priority, though. His priority is to show off his egg-cracking skills he learned from when he lived in Brazil.

The moment they were able to sort through their groceries, pack the ingredients, and prepare the kitchen for cooking, Hinata was standing by the sink, egg in hand like he was showing off to Kageyama some prized trophy.

Kageyama scowls, whisk and bowl in hand. “What are you doing?” he demands. “Give me those.”

Kageyama balanced the whisk in the bowl in one arm, so his other hand reached for the eggs. Hinata looked close to juggling them. But, Hinata turns away in time, tuts at Kageyama. “That’s not what I want to show you!” Hinata proceeds to crack the egg with one hand, pours it into the unseeming bowl Kageyama has.

“What.”

“Don’t you see?” Hinata pressed, hands flurry over the bowl. “Betcha can’t crack an egg with one hand.”

“This is what you want to tell me?” Kageyama asks.

“Yes.”

“Cracking an egg?”

Hinata’s eyes are still brimming with pride. “Yes. I may not know how to cook much, but I know how to _crack._ "

"That's some weird shit to brag about," Kageyama spat, but Hinata pours more gas to the growing fire.

"Bet you can't even do that. None of us can cook that well, as we both know, but I know this very! special! skill!"

Now he's done it.

Kageyama sets the bowl down on the kitchen top, takes an egg out of the egg carton. He hovers it over the bowl to crack it, with one hand take note, and…

He can’t do it. He tries harder, straining, a bit confused, and the egg is crushed in his palm.

The shattered shell mixes with the yolk from the egg Hinata cracked open. Kageyama’s hands are sticky and gooey, the yolk mashed between his palm and fingers. Hinata’s sly cackling at him shot a kind of irk in his blood. Before Hinata can stop Kageyama, the latter was grabbing at _another_ egg, ready to try cracking again. 

“Kageyama, we will run out of eggs-”

_Crack._

It was futile. This one exploded in his hand. Some of the yolk ended up on the kitchen top. 

“Hey! I’m not letting you win this one,” Kageyama grits. Hinata tilts his head, stopping mid-walk to physically distance Kageyama from the innocent eggs.

"Just let at it!" Kageyama tries again, maneuvers around Hinata and grab at two eggs at a time. Again, one egg was smashed too hard, the other taking 5 whole minutes before it even gave way, a small indent in the shell.

Hinata demonstrates. Kageyama's too distracted with the flexing biceps. "You do this," Hinata begins. He takes an egg, fingers deft on the middle of the shell, cracks it swift. "Ta-da!"

Kageyama _is_ impressed. "I can't believe my rival is teaching me, but wow."

Hinata blinks. “This is a contest?”

Kageyama trips on his words. Was it? Hinata did just try showing off something he was proud of. And why is Hinata _this close_? Hinata’s literally using his whole body to block Kageyama. And because he demonstrated, he's unknowingly snug between Kageyama's arms, guiding pliant fingers worn from tossing.

Hinata takes the bowl and whisk from Kageyama, ushers him to wash his hands. “Just let me crack the eggs. You go use the sink.”

They once again called up their seniors, who were glad to help them cook food. They were, though, fuming mad when they pulled up the video and there is yolk everywhere on the counter, their clothes, hair and hands. They might have even put some on their phone screen when they touched it with unwashed palms. Daichi and Sugawara were disappointed the most, seeing they can't cook even omurice properly.

"You're both V League players but can't cook meals!?" Sugawara sighs. "What the fuck do you eat?"

"Rocks, probably," Daichi answers, to which Asahi nods to. Even Shimizu, who was just silently watching from the side with her husband Ryuu rowding in the background, had to agree.

"I won't be surprised if they ate rocks," she surmised.

After careful guidance, and Daichi berating them every now and then, the silence dripped in between the rush of water from the faucet, and Hinata beating the eggs before frying them. In total, Kageyama broke around 2-3 eggs, while Hinata used 4 more for the omurice.

Kageyama did what he could do: cook and fry the rice for Hinata. Surprisingly, when they’re no longer goofing around in the kitchen, they do the cooking seamlessly. They always do things seamlessly when they are together. 

There’s this palpable silence Kageyama was treading on. He’s sure Hinata is aware of it as well. There’s this prominent frown on his forehead while he’s layering the rice Kageyama fried with egg. They did 4 dishes of omurice in total, plates heaped with fried rice and steaming eggs. They chose to pair it with Hibachi soup: clear broth with onion and mushrooms. They finished it with some juice to their preference, settling in some odd limbo in the dining room. They nursed their own dishes facing each other at the table. Hinata’s legs are folded into himself. Meanwhile, Kageyama’s legs are splayed all over the space Hinata vacated. He glances occasionally at Hinata, whose eyes are glued to his food, mouth stuffed the second he’s swallowed his previous bite. Every moment they eat, they chew, they swallow their food and drink their juice, sip their soup, the more Kageyama and Hinata are choked on the thick tension, the distraction of play-pretend no longer covering their questions, but exposing the answers they wished are not dreams.

The words are lodged inside Kageyama’s throat. He kept on thinking about what he heard when they were shopping back at the grocery store: what they meant, what they implied, the truth and lies in the admission, the courage of admission to the very person. Would he be the first one, or Hinata? If so, are they on the same magnitude, or is one ahead while the other struggles to catch up?

Hinata has known that he and Kageyama always did things together, on the same level, on the same thought process, on the same capacity they always delivered to each other. Whether it was volleyball, their study habits back in highschool, the tenacity of their passion, their aggression towards their mini-contests, or apart, separated in different countries across the world, they have always been with each other. It does not need to be physical. Hinata knows Kageyama is enough. Where Kageyama is, Hinata will find his way there, too.

The words kept now, though, is something different. They have moved past their dynamic, blooming into something more.

They speak at the same time, Hinata tinged a shade deeper than his hair, Kageyama sloshing his soup around from the inside of his bowl.

“Uh-”

“So-”

Hinata watched Kageyama fold his biceps around his chest, Hinata cursing at himself. He gulps his remaining drink in one go, wipes his mouth clean, stands up so fast it sends the other man clattering ever-so-subtly in the chair. He sweeps a look at their bowls: plain-colored, a solid ceramic shade, and at Kageyama the same sheen of light reflecting curiosity in his gaze.

 ** _“I LIKE YOU!”_** Hinata yelled, one hand pointing at Kageyama while the other banged the table, punctuating every word. _**“HAVE SO FOR A LONG TIME**!”_ Immediately, Hinata was wheezing, as if it took all his strength, his face visibly hot and sweaty. His fists clenched and unclenched at his sides, a bit up in the air, because Hinata does not know what to do with them. He slides back in his chair, releases a long exhale that sounds like a combination of a groan and a sigh.

“Well," Hinata beams at a paling Kageyama. “Now that I said that, I feel better!”

Hinata resumed eating. Kageyama’s disassociating to the void. 

_“You’re not even going to ask how I feel!?”_

Hinata stops from slurping down his soup. His usual demeanor returned, the tan of his skin back, no longer the pallid sweat of nervousness. Hinata’s plate is empty, no sign of the omurice from which the meal was placed n moments ago. He stopped himself from moving, body angled to beeline for seconds. Hinata took a long time to respond, eyes boring into Kageyama, the latter perturbed.

“I...have to ask? Why, are you sick?”

Kageyama faces upward, leaning to his chair, facepalms. “Dumbass, no. What the fuck.” The seats clatter, and Kageyama is shaking Hinata aggressively, grabs him by the shoulders. Kageyama had this brief thought that Hinata, no matter how long the years have weathered and shaped them, was always smaller than him, always snug in his arms, maybe. Just maybe.

“Hinata, **stupid**!” He yells, still shaking Hinata down to the shins. “ **Dumbass**! **Idiot**! **Dense** **motherfucker** who cannot get the message that I like you, too, damn it!”

“Stop shaking me! I _will_ throw up!”

It immediately shifts the mood, Hinata stabilizing himself by leaning onto Kageyama for support, cradling his head in his other hand. He glares up at Kageyama, a pout, more like, but the dark-haired setter looks away in guilt.

“You did not have to shake me that much to confess!” Hinata protests. It gleans over easily that Kageyama confessed. He side-eyed Hinata, who has an eyebrow quirked in question. Was Kageyama sure that Hinata was okay with it? But, Hinata did confess too, right? So he should be okay with it? Is this how confessing works? Kageyama was not sure-

“Hey, _Yamayama-san_ ,” Hinata grinds out between teeth. Kageyama breaks away from his thoughts, frowns quickly in shock at Hinata. Only, Hinata was mocking him, laughing at whatever wrinkles the spiker cannot count on his forehead. Kageyama stops bristling, calming down instead. “Do you want seconds?” Before Kageyama can answer, Hinata grabs both plates and places a small peck on his cheek, cackling. Hinata’s cheshire grin only grows the more Kageyama feels embarrassed for himself, feeling his ears turn pink.

“I’ll eat both, then!” Which turns Kageyama a different shade of red, an outburst of shock and annoyance. 

They’ll think about it later, maybe. Or not at all. It does not matter: time will always come right for the both of them.

* * *

“I think I liked you first.”

Kageyama’s appalled, eyes downcast in more of a frown. Hinata shrugs about it. When was Kageyama never frowning, anyway? 

“And! I get to confess first, so I have two wins added to our long-standing feud.”

They’re lounging now in Kageyama’s living room, the television droning on news they’ve heard from their coaches, their managers, their fellow sports men. They’re situated on opposite ends, Hinata’s legs on top of Kageyama’s. The latter, however, pushes off the former’s feet in defiance, eyes dancing with fury.

“That’s _unfair_!” Kageyama argues. “I've liked you since high school. I think I _love_ you now!”

“Well, if that’s the case,” Hinata drags, pumping out his chest. Kageyama spits out he looks stupid, but Hinata carries on. “I’ve liked you since high school, too! You think you’re special? You’re not.”

Kageyama sputters. “I’ve liked you since we played volleyball, _specifically_!”

Hinata cringes, making Kageyama wonder if he foul-mouthed his words into hexes. “Did you like me only because I’m good at volleyball?”

“To be fair, you were a fucking chaotic mess back in high school, so no.”

“But how about now?”

Kageyama scrunches his eyebrows in concentration. He’s only aware of Hinata’s weight leaning into his shoulder, and his arm looping around his, Hinata drawing lazy circles pressed on the tender side. Kageyama interrupts Hinata, gently, playing with the fingers absentmindedly. It took the setter by surprise, though. “Stop,” Kageyama hushed. “You’re distracting me.”

This also hushes the brim of overflow inside Hinata. “I think I still feel okay about you now,” Kageyama shrugs. Hinata cringes again. “That’s really all you’ve got to say?”

“Well, what else is there to say? I have no doubt we’ll be around each other no matter what, anyway.”

“Yeah, well. What do we do now?” It’s a genuine question, but Kageyama looks like the answer is plain and simple. “We date,” he answers.

“Can’t we take things slow?” Hinata whines. “Everything is _ka-bam_ now. Volleyball is _ka-bam_. My life is _ka-bam_. Now, you’re _ka-bam_ after I did a _ka-bam_ type of confession.”  
“I pretend I understood what you said, but I kinda did?” He does understand. It took him (the both of them) to pretty much communicate that they liked each other for a long time. A very long time. 

“This does not change the fact that I confessed first.”

“I offered to officially date now, though.” Hinata stills beside him. Kageyama seeing Hinata’s ears and neck turn a shade of red ebbs the irk in his stomach into something like awe. He still thinks Hinata is an annoying orange, but his annoying orange. “I think we’re even.” That’s all Hinata says before Kageyama feels himself thrum, the sudden weight of their situation feathered.

* * *

The weekend was them catching up. Hinata yaps and yaps about Brazil and Oikawa, Kageyama has this urge to punch the said man that keeps decorating Hinata's stories. Not to mention his roommate and fellow beach volleyball player, whom he only has an inkling about, but Hinata has shared a life with. That is fair, anyway. In Japan, he also shared a life with others: Ushijima, whom he never thought would be his teammate, and Hoshiumi, who only reminds him of Hinata all the more, during those years they were far apart, have moved forward since graduation back in high school.

Was Kageyama jealous? He mulls Hinata’s question over. “Any normal boyfriend would be, I guess. But they also led you back to me.”

Hinata’s head was swimming. Literally, swimming with the words Kageyama casually uttered. Boyfriend? **_Led you back to me?_** “Oi, Yama, shut up!” Was all he squawked at an offended Kageyama. “But you asked!” he pushed back.

Nothing changed, everything changed. They’re both more aware, more sensitive of each other’s presence. But they also still laughed at the same old jokes, still had a tally of their wins and losses, still made fun of each other, still supported the other relentlessly. Maybe, it intensified. Maybe, it was always there.

Hinata’s sure of one thing: the “now” of Kageyama. It was the last day. Non-locals were allowed to go home if tests a few days ago tested negative. He’ll be tested again in the service, sanitized, and then again once he arrives in his residence. All these, the uncertainty tilts the world underneath his feet, but Kageyama’s here to help stabilize him. 

Kageyama went with Hinata until the service station. They wondered what would happen if Hinata tested positive, and Kageyama had to be quarantined. But Hinata just waves it out, saying that at least they will be quarantining together. And, when in negative, the silent promise of Kageyama being with him to fetch results was the alternate answer. The strain of the shirt Kageyama wore that day, against his broad back, the sun cascading over shadows casted. And, while Kageyama’s face was half-covered, and face barely expressive, Hinata knew the setter’s glean in his look held all the same fondness Hinata felt in himself bursting.

Before boarding the service, Hinata waves at Kageyama, pulls Kageyama down for a quick hug, a chaste kiss. “I’ll call you soon!”

“Please, not the damn moment you board,” Kageyama groans, to which Hinata snickers. “I’ll call you now, if you want.”

“I’ll never get used to this.”

Hinata looks up at Kageyama, who was again staring at him. The identical face masks, roams over the food packs Hinata hoarded before Kageyama had the better wit about it, borrowed clothes, to which Kageyama just quite gave to the other.

“I’ll never get used to you,” Kageyama clarifies. Hinata just smiles as much as the dawning sun peaking over the city skyline. “As you should!” Hinata says back. Kageyama watched Hinata ride away, watched him wave from the back seat until he disappeared from the corner of the street. His phone immediately vibrates in his pocket, laughing despite himself, at Hinata’s name displayed on the screen.

“Dumbass, you can’t go on without me, huh.”

“You neither.”

Kageyama answers, soft. “Yeah, me neither.”


End file.
